Shy
by Apple Senorita
Summary: Young Legolas is crippled with self-doubt, self-loathing and self-consciousness. When Lord Elrond and his family visit Mirkwood, will Elrond's foster son be able to bring Legolas out of the shadows of his past? He is determined to try to. Legolas/Aragorn


Firstly I apologise if I get anything ridiculously wrong

Firstly I apologise if I get anything ridiculously wrong. I know that there are language changes between certain types of Elves and certainly realms etc, etc so certain names for things wouldn't really work in such a such context etc etc, but I really just enjoy watching the films and have only just started to read The Two Towers, so I'm hardly an expert.

Anyway, I apologise if I make any really big mistakes and if I have, please point them out to me!

Enjoy…

Mirkwood sparkled under an evening sky, the trees heavy with a densely warm breeze. Many who crossed the great cobble stones of the King's courtyard marvelled quietly at the gentle air. The weather had been…odd, of late. It was refreshing to have a warm, calm evening for once. Those at the stables finished their work and cast a glance at the halls of King Thranduil; smiling to see the one freckle of light in the rooms above. King Thranduil would always retire early, as would those who lived and worked in the house out of respect for their King. There was one, however, who stayed up to watch the evening die and the night swell through Mirkwood.

The light wind tickled gently at the curtains over the great yawning window of Prince Legolas' room. The young elf himself lay curled in the seat at the window, the very first book he had ever owned propped up on his knees. The fire crackled dimly behind him, and a candle or two supported his reading on the windowsill. Shutters had been held back since the winter, and the various wall plants that had grown on them rustled in the wind.

Legolas ran a hand across the words on the page, then turned back to face the evening air. Evening was one of his favourite times of day. He had to acknowledge that he liked almost every time of day; but evening almost won over the others. A bird flashed by the window and he smiled, lifting himself up closer to the edge of the window to watch its flight back towards the hem of trees. Whilst he was there, he rested his elbows against the cold stone and leant forward to check on the stables. He could just about see their roofs, his Elven ears picking up the soft burrs of noise from the settling horses.

He leant back and resumed reading, biting down on the corner of his lip in concentration.

There was a light knock on the door and he jumped, his finger slipping on the corner of the book.

"Yes?" he called out, a blush across his face at how small his voice sounded.

"It is only me, Legolas," his father smiled. He was dressed for sleep, but his eyes and face looked awake. Legolas quickly put the book down and sat up, confused. His father always went to bed early. He had no objections to Legolas going to bed later, but he himself enjoyed lots of sleep, particularly as he felt the many years of his life catch a little at his spirit.

"Sorry, Legolas, I did not meant to startle you. I…could not sleep. And I realised I had forgotten to tell you something very important. King Elrond of Rivendell arrives tomorrow with his sons."  
"Sons?" Legolas asked, warily.  
"Yes, you know he has three of them. They will be coming with him this time. I know it is not usual of Elrond's visits but he thought maybe you and his youngest could get to know each other."

Legolas' eyes widened. Thranduil looked pained, "Legolas…is that alright?" he enquired, knowing it wouldn't be alright at all. In front of his eyes, Legolas seemed to scrunch in on himself. His arms wrapped themselves around his chest and stomach, he pulled his knees impossibly closer to his torso and bent his face into them. He blinked against the linen material of his night clothes, feeling a warm rush of red fear around his cheeks and neck.

"Legolas," his father said, softly, "I will…not force you to talk, if you do not want to. But…I really hoped you could try, with this boy. He sounds very nice. It would do you good to have a friend. Legolas?"

Legolas didn't respond. He kept his face hidden, his knuckles white as he gripped to the material of his clothes. Thranduil sighed wearily.

For the life of him, he loved his son, but he was a mystery. His eldest son was nothing like his youngest; Almein was confident and proud, with a knack for making strangers feel welcome and anybody laugh. Legolas, however, was none of those things. He lacked the confidence to even look at strangers. He had barely spoken in such a length of time, Thranduil had forgotten what the flow of his son's voice sounded like.

Of course, Legolas had a reason to be so quiet and self-contained. But he had thought…maybe, after time, he would heal. It seemed that was not the case.

Thranduil felt his heart tighten in his chest and laid a hand on his son's back and

"Do not worry Little Greenleaf. I will not force you to make friends with him, but I want you to try. There are many in this house who would love to hear the sound of your laughter again."

Legolas didn't unfurl himself until he heard the echoing click of the door shut. He stretched out his legs first, then turned to rest on the pillows. The pain in his stomach grew. He did not like visitors in the house; they unnerved him. He felt pained at the idea of meeting them, speaking with them. He wished he could just be left on his own. He didn't want friends, friends could be dangerous.

No, he was happier on his own. He was happy with the horses and archery and his books. Legolas ached for his father to stop trying to make him make friends.

Legolas may not have smiled since the accident that made him so terrified, but then again rarely had his father. He settled back on the pillows and tilted his head to see the starts scattered above Mirkwood.

Maybe he would meet the youngest son of Elrond and make a friend. Maybe then his father would start to smile more.

But the more Legolas thought about it, the more the frown on his fair face grew. Even if he tried to make friends with Lord Elrond's son, why would the elf want to be friends with him?

He dug his nails into the palm of his hand until blood spiked down his wrists.

'Why would anyone like someone as pathetic as me?' he thought, digging harder and fighting away the wince.

"I can see something whose name begins with an…'I'."  
"I?"  
"Yes."  
"Hm…is it Imladris?"  
"How is it 'Imladris'? We are nearly at King Thranduil's home, how is what I see in this game Imladris?!"  
"Well maybe I can see it."  
"_How_ can you see it? I cannot see it."  
"Perhaps I have better eyesight than you do."  
The twins bickering was halted by the sound of their father's voice in front of them, "If you two will continue to argue whilst playing this game, then you will both be going _back_ to Imladris and we will all be happier for it."

Lord Elrond turned in his saddle and gave his chastised boy an amused smile, "We are very nearly there. Maybe you should conclude your game and just let us ride in silence?"  
Silence fell on the party for a moment, a few escorts turning their faces slightly to hide their smiles.

"It was 'insect'," Elrohir eventually said, stiffly, "It was on the back of Father's cloak."  
Elladan looked ready to argue that something that could potentially fly away whilst one was playing the game could not be chosen for guessing, when their father simply said, "Boys," in a warning tone,

Elladan closed his mouth and dropped the matter quickly.

"At least they are not playing the throwing game," came an amused voice from behind. The twins jerked a little to the side as the gap between their horses was widened and a smiling figured appeared on his own brown steed, "That one caused injuries."

"Yes," Lord Elrond chuckled, "At least I can say that, Estel."

Estel laughed at the expressions on his elder brothers' faces, "You two look like a pair of elfings."

"It is better to be lively and full of spirit than _smug_, Estel," Elladan said, nudging his younger brother with his knee.

The twins, being identical, obviously looked alike. Their long dark hair sat in the same way on their similarly built shoulders and their expressions of disgruntlement were identical. Their younger brother, Estel, however, was completely different. His ears were rounded, not pointed, his hair short and wavy and a ruddy, dark brown. It was noticeable from anybody who may have walked by the group, that where the twins were elves, Estel was human.

The adopted son of Lord Elrond was nonetheless a member of the family, however, and he had been for many years. And for the twins, he occasionally filled in all the requirements of being 'an annoying younger brother'.

"Be as smug as you like, Estel," Elrohir chirped, "But you are meant to befriend the Prince of Mirkwood when we arrive and that is believed to be an incredibly difficult task."  
"Why?" Estel asked, with a frown.

"He is a very nice boy," Elrond said, with a tone of impatience in his voice.  
"Yes, father," Elladan interjected diplomatically, trying to butt his father from the conversation, "But he apparently has said very little after he witnessed the attack of his mother. He does not have any company outside of himself. We have never met him, but this is what we have heard."  
"I believe that _all_ of you should take the time to get to know Legolas," Elrond chimed in, once again overruling any discussion in the matter, "And that the three of you should start to behave more suitably. We have arrived."

'Legolas,' Estel repeated the name to himself, as the group quickened their pace and the gates in front of them stretched open. The thought struck him that it was a beautiful name, before he was roused from his thoughts by the breathtaking sight of the home of King Thranduil.

And the sight of the supposedly shy Prince Legolas stood at his father's side on the grand steps.

'Beautiful' was certainly one word that sprung to Estel's mind.

Yeah, that was basically an elf's version of two kids in the back of a car fighting and the father threatening to 'turn the bloody car around if you two don't pack it in right now!'

Of course it's a lot more dignified etc. But funny to imagine nonetheless.

Sorry if it's a little slow to begin with, that's usually how I like to start. And I sort of want it to be an easy pace; I find it easier to write that way.

Anyway, review…please.


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